


talk to me

by seiseijoh



Series: bound and bruised [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A little bit of plot, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Background Ennotana - Freeform, Bruises, Choking, Dirty Talk, Dom!Yahaba, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Sub!Kyoutani, not a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 00:38:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21419323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seiseijoh/pseuds/seiseijoh
Summary: Yahaba is away, and Kyoutani is lonely, but he'd never in a million years admit it
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Series: bound and bruised [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659802
Comments: 8
Kudos: 296





	talk to me

**Author's Note:**

> this is the only dynamic for kyouhaba i'll ever write so like, get used to it y'all lmao
> 
> much much thanks to my wonderful betas Louie_writes and and MangaManiac big love to y'all

Kyoutani slams the bedroom door shut behind him and leans back against it with a heavy, frustrated sigh. For the past few days he’s been nothing but stressed, antsy – downright irritable, even. Every single little thing is pissing him off more than usual – his university classes are a nightmare, he’s finding it harder to be calm around stupid customers at work, and being around his housemates for more than about thirty seconds is putting him on edge. Ennoshita and Tanaka are always annoying – they can’t be within ten feet of each other without being disgustingly cute – and he’s always dealt with it, even getting somewhat used to it, but for some reason even just _ seeing _ the pair of them lately is setting his temper off like never before.

Kyoutani throws himself face down on the bed and groans into the pillow. He knows exactly what the problem is, but he hates to admit it, even to himself

He misses Yahaba.

His boyfriend has been gone for four days now, visiting his family back in Miyagi. Kyoutani hadn’t thought that being without him would affect him this much, and he hates that it does. It’s like everything in his life has moved an inch out of place – not a lot, but just enough to throw him off and make everything just that much more difficult to deal with. 

Rolling onto his back, Kyoutani glares at the ceiling. Yahaba isn’t due back for another three days and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to survive it with his sanity intact. Normally, just being near Yahaba is all it takes to calm Kyoutani’s wildly-swinging moods, a steady and dominating presence when he feels like he’s going to spin out of control, but Yahaba isn’t here and now there’s an itch, an uncomfortableness under his skin. He needs _ something _ to soothe the burn that isn’t Yahaba, because he can’t go another three days like this. 

Muttering to himself, Kyoutani reaches for his headphones on the bedside table. He jams them on his head and turns them on, swearing when his phone doesn’t automatically detect their signal. After a few moments, they finally connect and he immediately blasts the first song he can find. Maybe he can force the frustration out of his head with pounding, heavy bass.

It’s worth a shot, anyway.

To his surprise, it almost works. He can still feel the itch, but the music provides something else to think about. The first two songs that play are in English, so he focuses all his energy on listening to the words, the way they sound, translating them as an added distraction. By the fifth song, he’s the closest to calm he’s been all week, and by the eighth he’s starting to think he might even be able to take a much-needed nap – he’s gotten too used to sleeping beside Yahaba, and his sleep has been fractured and restless since he’s been gone.

So, of course, it’s at this moment that Ennoshita chooses to knock on his door and poke his head in.

Kyoutani bolts upright, tearing his headphones off and only just holding himself back from hurling them at his housemate’s face. He’s already had to replace them twice this year, and it’s the thought of having to fork out for yet another set that stays his hand, although his knuckles are white as he clutches them in a death grip.

“What the _ fuck _ do you want?”

Ennoshita jerks back instinctively at the display of rage, but otherwise remains calm – this isn’t the first outburst he’s had to deal with, and it shows.

“Ryuu and I are going out for a few hours, I wanted to know if you wanted us to pick up anything for you.”

“No, fuck off,” Kyoutani growls through gritted teeth.

“Alright.” Ennoshita shrugs and shuts the door.

Kyoutani falls back against the bed. Every muscle in his body is tense, and the itch is stronger than ever now. He wriggles for a moment, sits up, crosses and uncrosses his legs. But movement hasn’t helped over the past few days, and it’s not helping now. He’s more agitated than he has been at any point since Yahaba left, and he wants to _ scream_.

But he knows his neighbours won’t be fans of that particular stress-reliever, so he forcefully crushes his headphones back on and lays down again. But before he can press play, his phone starts to vibrate with a call. Kyoutani takes one look at the caller ID and rushes to route the call through his headphones.

“Hey,” he says, his voice sounding like gravel in his throat.

“Hey,” Yahaba replies, and just like that, the uncomfortableness starts to subside. “You answered quick.”

He doesn’t sound the slightest bit accusatory, but Kyoutani bristles at the statement anyway. He grits his teeth for a moment to calm down before he replies, as indifferently as he can, “I was listening to music, so I already had my phone on me.”

The last thing he needs is for Yahaba to know how badly affected he is by his absence. He hates that he’s acting like this just because his boyfriend’s out of town, and he absolutely does _ not _ want Yahaba to think of him as weak or pathetic. 

“Oh, cool.” Yahaba sounds relaxed, and Kyoutani wishes he felt the same. “My family went out shopping, so I thought I’d stay behind and take the time to call you. I’m sorry last time got cut short.”

Kyoutani huffs. Yahaba had called two days ago, but they’d barely been able to talk for more than five minutes before Yahaba’s time had been co-opted by his family. They’ve texted in the meantime, of course, but it’s not the same. And Kyoutani’s not about to admit defeat and call him. Not a chance. Not even if Yahaba’s voice is like cool water on the burn throughout his body.

“You okay? You sound pissy.”

“I’m fine."

He can imagine Yahaba rolling his eyes the way he always does when Kyoutani acts like this.

“Sure, whatever you say. You know I’m not stupid, right?”

“I’d beg to differ.”

“You’re hilarious,” Yahaba says drily. “What’s wrong?”

Kyoutani rolls onto his side, curling up a little and clutching the phone to his chest. He says, “Nothing,” but as the word leaves his mouth a shudder runs through him at how small it sounds.

“Come on, something’s obviously wrong. Is it work? You were saying in your last text that your boss was annoyed at you.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Don’t be stupid, tell me what’s going on.”

Kyoutani can feel his blood pressure rising. He just wants this conversation over with, he wants to talk about literally anything else and not about how fucking _ desperate _ he is for Yahaba to be here right now.

“_Nothing _ is going on, there’s nothing to tell you.”

“Kentarou, for fucks sake, talk to me,” Yahaba snaps, his easy tone gone in a second. “Why are you avoiding the question?”

Kyoutani grits his teeth, crushes the heel of his palm against his eyes and snaps back, “Shut up, I’m fine. Everything’s fucking fine. I’m not pissy, you’re just making shit up. You wouldn’t know if I was anyway, you’re not here, you don’t know shit, so just shut the fuck up about it, okay?”

Yahaba’s quiet for a long moment, and Kyoutani mechanically forces himself to breathe, despite the fact that not breathing and just dying sounds great right about now.

“Kentarou,” Yahaba finally says, softly, “are you missing me?”

Kyoutani swears under his breath, then replies, “No.”

“You’re allowed to miss me, you know. In fact, I kinda hope you miss me.”

“I don’t…” He stops, not sure if he actually wants to finish that statement. He doesn’t want Yahaba to know just how _ much _ he misses him, but he doesn’t want to imply that he doesn’t care about him at all, even if Yahaba knows he does.

“Are you okay?”

“I…I’m fine… I will be.” Kyoutani struggles around the words. He’s never been good at expressing himself. “I just… I feel _ weird _. Frustrated.”

“Frustrated?” Yahaba asks, an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before, but one Kyoutani is intimately attuned to. “Like, _ frustrated _?”

Kyoutani groans. “No. I mean, yeah, I haven’t gotten off since you left, but not just that. Everything pisses me off – more than usual, anyway.”

Yahaba doesn’t reply. Instead, there’s a rustling sound from his end of the line, footsteps.

“Shigeru?” Kyoutani asks, biting his lip at how pathetic he sounds. 

“Yeah, I’m here, baby,” Yahaba says. “Sorry, I’m just moving to the bedroom. I was in the living room, and I don’t know when my family’s coming home. Don’t exactly want to get interrupted, do we?”

The sound of a door closing, the click of a lock, the implication in Yahaba’s words and tone – a shiver runs down Kyoutani’s spine.

“You haven’t gotten off since I left?”

“I… It’s not the same without you,” Kyoutani huffs.

“So you’ve missed me?” The edge in Yahaba’s voice is even more pronounced now, sly and dangerous.

Kyoutani clenches his jaw and admits through his teeth, “Maybe.”

“I miss you,” Yahaba says, softening. “So much. I know I’ve been saying it over and over in texts, but I don’t think you realise how much. I wish I could be with you right now.” And then the edge returns in an instant as he says in a low voice, “I wish I could be with you to help you through all your _ frustration _.”

Kyoutani groans without quite meaning to, and curls up more as the burn starts to run even hotter.

“Talk to me, Kentarou,” Yahaba says, “What’s going on? Where are you right now?”

“I’m… I’m in our room, laying on the bed,” Kyoutani says, a little more breathily than he’d like.

“What are you wearing?”

“Sweatpants… that stupid Pokemon shirt you got me…”

Yahaba laughs. “You really do miss me.”

“Shigeru…” Kyoutani slides a hand down his stomach, thumbing the waistband of his pants. “Don’t fuck around.”

“Oh, Kentarou,” Yahaba says playfully. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Blindly, Kyoutani puts the phone on the bedside table – with the headphones, he doesn’t need to keep hold of it, and he _ definitely _ wants the use of both hands. But before he can get anywhere close to touching himself, Yahaba speaks again, distracting him with that perfectly dangerous voice.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me, Kentarou?”

Kyoutani is incredibly grateful that their housemates aren’t anywhere nearby – he moans, cramming the side of one hand into his mouth while the other clutches at the hem of his shirt.

“Kentarou, answer me.”

“Yeah…”

“Good,” Yahaba says. “You be a good boy, do as you’re told, and I’ll take care of you, okay? I always take care of you, don’t I?”

“Mmm, Shigeru…”

“I asked you a question, Kentarou. Answer me.”

“Y-Yes… you always do. I trust you.”

Yahaba is quiet for a moment, and Kyoutani chews on his hand as he waits. Finally, he says, “I love that you trust me, baby. I love that you let me do all sorts of things to you, that you trust me to make you feel good.”

“Shigeru…” Kyoutani exhales.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“No…”

“Good boy, you knew I wouldn’t want you to yet.”

He can hear the smile in Yahaba’s words, and the praise sends a thrill through every nerve. His breath hitches as his boyfriend continues.

“What I want you to do is touch your body, anywhere else, the way I would if I was there with you.”

Kyoutani rolls onto his back, and one hand makes a beeline for his thigh while he drags the other one under his shirt to his chest. He can imagine it now, and he likes what he sees – Yahaba, on his knees in front of him, nails light but sharp on his chest while he pushes Kyoutani’s legs open to mouth and bite at the inside of his thigh. The bruises have faded since the last time they actually did this, but Kyoutani’s determined to put them back, pinching and rubbing at the skin.

“Talk to me, baby,” Yahaba encourages. “I wanna know what you’re doing. You sound like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Kyoutani blinks his eyes open, bites off a groan he hadn’t realised he was making.

“Remember… when you gave me all those bruises… on my legs?”

“Of course, baby,” Yahaba sounds like he’s smirking. “You had to borrow long knee pads so you could play without anyone seeing them. I don’t know why you didn’t want anyone else to see.”

“They’re _ mine_,” Kyoutani snaps. “_Mine_, from you.”

“Oh, Kentarou,” Yahaba says with a pleased sigh, “_You're _ mine, aren’t you?”

Kyoutani slides his hand further up his thigh, aching and wanting but not enough to disobey. 

“Yours, Shigeru.”

“You’re such a good boy.” Yahaba sounds just the right side of distracted. “Do you remember that when I gave you those bruises, I choked you as well?”

Kyoutani groans, and slips his hand out from under his shirt to run it over his throat, squeezing just a little. 

“I wish I could choke you right now, baby, you’re so fucking beautiful like that.” The words tumble from Yahaba’s mouth almost without control. “So fucking beautiful, your whole body giving itself up to me, so trusting.”

The moan sticks in Kyoutani’s throat as he squeezes again, and he stutters, “I-I want… want you to choke me…”

Wistfully, Yahaba says, “I wish I could, baby. You were wearing the black collar that time, right? The leather one. Wear that for me when I come home, okay? I promise, I’ll choke you ‘til you see stars.”

Kyoutani whines, nodding even though Yahaba can’t see him. He trails his hand down from his throat and tugs at his sweatpants, pushing and kicking them off until they’re on the floor and he can see his handiwork – bright red marks litter his inner thigh, some areas darker than others where they’ll bruise, his dick hard and leaking against his stomach. His other thigh is far too bare for his liking, so as he lays back again, he swaps hands and moves the other up to circle his thumb around his hipbone. He wants to touch, but he waits.

“Keep talking to me, baby. I’m dying here, you sound so fucking hot and I don’t know what you’re doing,” Yahaba says.

“You always… you like to rub my hips… h-hold me down…” Kyoutani’s not even sure how he’s as coherent as he is – probably solely because Yahaba isn’t actually in the room. His presence is far, far superior to his voice and he misses it intensely, but the burn under his skin makes him more than willing to take whatever he can get.

“Fuck, yeah, I do,” Yahaba sighs, a forceful sound, as if he’s trying to hold himself in check. “You’re so strong, Kentarou, you could stop me in a heartbeat, but you let me hold you down, you let me do such filthy things to you. You’d never let anyone else treat you like that, would you?”

Panic rises in Kyoutani’s chest at the idea that Yahaba would ever, _ ever _ think he’d let anyone else touch him the way his boyfriend does, that he’d ever submit to anyone but him.

“No!” He half-shouts it, scratching his thigh as his hand clenches in reflex.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Yahaba soothes. “You’re a good boy, I know you wouldn’t. I love you so much, Kentarou, you’re such a good boy for me, only for me.”

The panic fades away as Kyoutani exhales, “Only for you, Shigeru.”

“Touch yourself, baby, slowly.”

Kyoutani chokes on a moan as he finally takes hold of his dick. It’s somewhat uncomfortable, rough, but the relief of finally being able to _ touch _ outweighs anything else right now. He strokes himself slowly, gasping.

“Shigeru…” He stumbles over the words. “A-Are you… are you touching yourself too?”

“Fuck, baby,” Yahaba says breathlessly. “Yeah, I am, you sound fucking…” He pauses, takes a shaky breath that sounds delicious through the headphones, makes Kyoutani’s toes curl. “You sound _ gorgeous_, baby. I wish I was there; I want to touch you so bad.”

Kyoutani bends one leg to get a better purchase on the bed, and flails wildly for the upper drawer in the bedside table.

“What are you doing, Kentarou?”

“Lube.” Kyoutani clicks the lid and sloppily coats his hand so he can get back to actually touching like he’s finally allowed to do.

“Oh, good boy.”

“I… _ ah_.” Kyoutani grits his teeth as he rolls his hips up, closes his eyes to imagine it’s Yahaba’s hand on him. The heavy breathing through the headphones is disorienting, dizzying. “Oh, _ fuck _ , Shigeru, _ fu _ – _ ah _…”

“Keep talking to me, baby, tell me what you want.”

Kyoutani chokes back a sob as he plays the scenario out in his mind - _Yahaba’s hand on him, bringing him close to completion and then easing off. His fingers sliding deep within him, circling the place that makes him cry out in need, before pulling away, again and again and again and again, teasing whispers in his ear, until he feels like he’s going to tear apart at the seams. Then, bigger than fingers, pressing in as Yahaba holds him close, covers him with his body, pulls them together like they’re one, his breath trapped in his chest, and all he can do is cant his hips up, claw at Yahaba’s back, and take what’s given to him._

He wants to say it all, wants to do as he’s told and give Yahaba every obscene detail. But he can’t. All he can do is moan, “Shi – _ ah_… I… I want you to… _ fuck _ me, Shigeru, _ fuck me_.”

“_Kentarou_,” Yahaba groaned. “Baby, I wanna fuck you so badly, as soon as I get home you’re not going to be able to _ walk_, I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby, _ fuck_…”

“Shigeru…” Kyoutani fucks his hand faster, breathless. “_Please_.”

“Let’s… let’s do the next best thing, okay?” Yahaba sounds utterly wrecked, his voice trembling. “How many fingers do you think you can take right now?”

Kyoutani doesn’t waste a second. He shakily adds some extra lube to his fingers before sinking two in as far as he can manage with a moan.

“Kentarou, for fuck’s sake, _ talk to me_.”

“T-Two…” Kyoutani lets one leg fall open, the other still bent as he rocks his hips. “I’ve got two in me…”

“Fuck, you take it so well, don’t you, baby? I know you like it rough sometimes, but –” Yahaba breaks off into a sharp gasp. “Not this time, be gentle, okay? I promised I’d take care of you. You have to be so gentle and slow that you _ cry_, okay? I love when you cry, you’re so pretty, fuck, I wish I could see you.”

Kyoutani follows every instruction to the letter, presses in slow and gentle, takes his time. It feels like an hour goes by, Yahaba whispering praise as he stretches himself. 

He bites his lip, finally asks, “Can I…”

Yahaba cuts him off before he can finish. “No, not yet. Be a good boy for me.”

Just those words alone make Kyoutani want to cry. He tries to fight the tears, jamming the side of his free hand into his mouth, but the pressure is too great, and Yahaba loves it when he cries, so as they drip down his cheeks onto the pillow he sobs audibly and gets a muttered curse in response. 

“Can you take three?”

It’s easy enough – he could probably fit four if he asked. Kyoutani edges it in slowly, nearly his entire fist in his mouth as he tries his best to focus on not coming. He wants Yahaba to fuck him, so badly, and usually Yahaba doesn’t tease him for this long if he plans on screwing his brains out, and then it usually takes a little longer for him to come. But when Yahaba _ does _ tease, bites his thighs and never touches him where he needs, coaxes him to tears with soft kisses and slow fingers, all it takes is the slightest shift, a momentary loss of concentration, and he falls apart. That’s what this is, and while he loves it, he feels like he’s about to explode out of his skin.

“P-Please, Shigeru…” he chokes out around his fist. 

“_Answer me_.”

Kyoutani heaves in a breath. “Yes, I-I can… _ please_…”

“You need it, don’t you, baby? You fucking need it so bad –”

“_Yes _…”

Yahaba groans, and his words start to jumble together as his pace picks up. “– go on, baby, touch yourself, be a good boy, you’re my good boy, Kentarou, just – fuck, I’m – _ fuck _–"

Finally, _ finally_, Kyoutani pushes further, to touch where he so _ desperately _ needs, and he arches off the bed with a gasp as his whole body ignites. He cries out, a babbled name and pleas, not even hearing Yahaba anymore. And then he pulls his fingers back, near hysterical and choking as he heaves in breath after breath – Yahaba never actually said he could come, and the absolute _ last _ thing he needs right now is for Yahaba to be pissed with him. So he grits his teeth and tries to keep his focus on breathing and listening for the magic words.

“Kentarou…” Yahaba mumbles; soft, tired, giddy all at once. “That was…”

“’geru… _ please_,” Kyoutani begs. 

“Wha…” He can almost see Yahaba’s brow creasing, almost hear the gears whirring as he processes what Kyoutani is trying to say. “Did you come? I thought…?”

“You…” Kyoutani swallows, tries to ignore how tightly wound his body is. “You didn’t… say…”

“Oh baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Yahaba rushes. “You can come, Kentarou, my good boy, keep going, you can come whenever you want now.”

Kyoutani doesn’t hesitate, plunging his fingers back in and slamming his hips up in one move. A single touch is enough. With Yahaba murmuring soft praise, and every nerve on fire, Kyoutani comes with a keening cry. His legs tremble as he rocks his hips through it until he can’t stand the sensation of his fingers anymore, and he pulls away.

It’s a long few moments – maybe a century or two – before Kyoutani stops feeling simultaneously hazy and wired, like the slightest touch will tear his skin off if he doesn’t fall asleep first. But slowly, he starts to come back to himself, groaning.

“Kentarou, baby, you with me?”

“Mmm?” Kyoutani blinks.

“There you are.” He can hear the smile as Yahaba speaks. “You alright?”

“I… yeah…” He’s not convinced that he’s not slurring as he talks – the words feel sticky and heavy in his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even realise I hadn’t given you the okay.”

“S’fine.”

“I’ll make it up to you when I get home.” Yahaba laughs, then sighs. “I wish I could see you right now.”

Kyoutani blinks a few times as the words buzz around in his brain, taking the time to process them and the thought that comes after. “Wait a second…”

He wipes his hand off on the sheets before clumsily grabbing for his phone. Despite feeling like he’s about to drop it at any second, he manages to get to the camera and not hang up the call at the same time. He stares at himself on the screen, taking in the come splattered across his shirt, the tears trapped in his lashes and tracked down his cheeks, his lip bitten and swollen – utterly debauched. Not to mention the absolute mess that is his thighs, covered in marks and early bruising and residual lube. He snaps some selfies and a couple of shots of his legs, and a few seconds after he sends them, he hears Yahaba suck in a sharp breath. 

“Oh fuck, baby…” There’s an audible swallow. “You really went all in on your thighs, didn’t you?”

“They’ll be nice bruises when you get back,” Kyoutani mumbles. “But there won’t be any bite marks. I like the bite marks.”

“I’ll give you all the bite marks you want when I get back.” After a moment of silence, Yahaba sighs. “I miss you so much, Kentarou. I can’t wait to come home.”

“I miss you too,” Kyoutani yawns.

“Oh, so _ that’s _ all it took for you to actually admit it?” Yahaba laughs.

Kyoutani squints, and wants to tell him to fuck off, but instead he rubs his eyes and mumbles, “I don’t feel weird anymore.”

The itch, the burn, the uncomfortable _ need _ is gone. Soothed, at least for the moment. He has little doubt that when the high wears off and Yahaba still isn’t around, it’ll be back. But for the moment, he's calm, and he's satisfied.

He can tell Yahaba wants to make a joke, but he's glad that his boyfriend holds back – he's too tired to fight anymore.

“I’m glad.”

“I really miss you. Come home.”

“I’ll be back before you know it. Are you going to sleep now? I can stay on the line until you do.”

“Hold on a second.”

Carefully, Kyoutani takes off his headphones and sets them aside on the bedside table. He yanks his shirt over his head and cleans himself off with it before tossing it aside. Then, after some shuffling around, he gets the blanket free from underneath him so he can curl up and pull it over himself comfortably. Finally, he reroutes the call from the headphones to the phone's loudspeaker and settles down in bed.

“Okay, I’m back.”

“Everything okay?” Yahaba’s voice sounds different now that it’s not right in his ears, far away.

“Yeah, just cleaning up.”

“Did you want me to stay on the line?”

Kyoutani yawns again. “Whatever you want,” he says, nonchalant, but they both know what he really means to say.

“Just a few minutes and you’ve gone from ‘I really miss you’ to ‘whatever’. Amazing,” Yahaba snorts.

“Whatever, asshole,” Kyoutani replies, smiling as he closes his eyes.

“You’re such a dumbass. Just you wait ‘til I get home.”

“That’s the plan.”


End file.
